1 a.m in the morning
walking the streets
basking under tangerine lights
not minding time as it fleets

the cold morning wind
punctures my skin
a smile plays on my lips
savoring the sensation it brings

I inhale the silence,
embrace the softness of the morning
a warm piquant feeling
seeping through me

I feel the cadence of my footsteps
the symmetry of the streetlights
I even felt the rhythm
in the flickering of the store signs

and oh! how the stars shine in the moment
millions above lustrously burning
in the sky
now my heart
as they permeate my being

1 a.m in the morning
while walking the streets
I have found peace
in the city that never sleeps.

i treasure
1 to 4 a.m
the quiet and calm hours of the morning

the only hours of the day
that wants nothing from me
the only time that I am free.

Im on this path to see whats at the end. Its a long windy road with lots of bends. Getting lost is part of the journey. Its not a problem im in no hurry, telling stories of friends who've gone. Through my words they will live on. The dark days come the dark days go, one day we all gotta go. Light is peaking through the cracks, I break on through and dont look back.

I have always been the one
to never take the risks
one to play it safe
to snuggle where it fits

when time gave me
an opportunity to grab
Alas! afraid to lose
what i do not even have
I did not take it

I have always been the one
to take the safer bends
now, I'm stuck
just being her friend.

a woman, intricately drawn
by trembling hands
she was born
into existence
on a blank paper
a clean slate
a beauty to her creator
but in this world
beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.
aesthetically,
beauty depends upon the axioms
of the paper society.